


Familiarity

by karuvapatta



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Loki Has Issues, M/M, Pre-Thor (2011), Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2014-12-05
Packaged: 2018-02-28 07:35:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2724056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karuvapatta/pseuds/karuvapatta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This quest was a chance for Thor to spend time with his brother and to mend the distance between them – but Fates laugh when gods make plans, do they not?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Familiarity

**Author's Note:**

> Look, I don't even know what happened here. Or why it happened. Or why it took 6K words to happen. Just—yeah.

Two weeks into their journey through Nidavellir, Thor and Loki stumbled across an inn.

It was a most welcome sight for Thor's eyes. Everything in the Dwarves' halls and dwellings had been woefully inadequate to accommodate someone of his stature. This place, however, seemed to have been built for travellers, and he was glad for the opportunity to stand unbent underneath a ceiling.

Well, almost. He still managed to hit his head on the low doorframe. 

"Brother," Thor said, upon hearing a familiar huff of breath. "Shut up."

"As you wish," Loki said, perfectly innocent.

The servants rushed in to offer them mead and chambers, and Thor was most grateful. Their little quest led them to a nest of vicious beasts that had long plagued this land; Thor had made a quick work of them, after giving himself in to the berserker's rage. He was comfortable in the knowledge that Loki's watchful eyes were ever behind him.

Now, though – now it was time for celebration.

He indulged himself to his heart's content, while Loki recounted the tale to their audience. Tale-telling was his brother's greatest joy - _second_ greatest, after plaguing every day of Thor's existence with his petty games – and if some elements of the story were built out of proportions, while others omitted entirely, Thor was wise enough to say nothing.

"You seem content," Thor said. The mead here wasn't as potent or flavourful as the one in Asgard, but he could already feel pleasant warmth bloom inside him.

"I am," Loki said, seating himself down to wash his throat. He had moved to singing after the audience demanded it, but excused himself now, claiming he was too sore to continue. "It is not often we get to attend to such trivialities, these days. A change was most welcome."

Thor shuddered, not wanting to think of the court matters the Allfather had been forcing on him as of late. With their age and fame, their responsibilities grew. 

"True," he said, and couldn't help but grin. "Are you saying you have missed me, little brother?"

Loki scowled.

"No, of course not," he said. "I simply get tired of being buried in books, treaties and legislations."

"Liar," Thor said, fondly. Worry was bleeding out of him with every gulp of mead. It was odd, for him to become inebriated so fast – but that thought, too, departed the haze that became of his mind. "Because I know I have missed you," he said.

He was smiling, and the world seemed different – edgeless and glowing and pleasant. Even Loki's slight frown could not bother him for long.

The look on his brother's face was almost like guilt, or hesitation. But Thor no longer had it in himself to ponder that.

"I think it's time to retire," Thor said. He stumbled when he tried to rise.

"Yes," Loki said, quietly. "I think so too."

They made their way up the stairs. Thor's footsteps turned slow, careful, his limbs like molasses; he would have fallen, had it not been for Loki's thin frame holding him upright.

"Come now, you oaf," Loki mumbled. Thor could only laugh.

Inside their rooms, modest though they were, fire was already blazing and the beds were set. Thor stood in the middle, basking in the warmth. He could feel blood spread around his body; he flexed his muscles, marvelling at the new strength overtaking them.

It was getting warmer. He pulled off his tunic, and found that fresh air felt wondrous on his naked skin. The fire was spreading – and with it, a sense of urgency, and unease.

His skin tingled. The feeling subsided only when he pressed a hand to his stomach – and then slid it downwards, and—

Oh, he could scarcely hold back the moan. It was electric. It was like being caught inside a storm.

"Thor, I can leave. If you need some time alone," Loki sneered at him from the shadows, and Thor whipped around.

His brother stood motionless, hands clasped behind him, a ghost of a smile dancing on his thin lips, his eyebrows slightly arched. Fire reflected in his bright green eyes.

"Too much mead?" he asked, an edge of mockery to his low, melodious voice.

"Just enough," Thor growled. He could not quite tell what it was in Loki's voice that made him angry. What it was in Loki's voice that set his nerves on fire.

He watched Loki's careful, deliberate movements as he removed his protective garments and settled for a green tunic he normally slept in. It was less ornate and laid snuggly on his lean body. The open collar exposed the base of Loki's neck.

Thor pressed a hand to his forehead, wondering why in Allfather's name would he notice such things.

"Can you deal with the fire?" Loki said, barely turning.

It was something to do, and Thor was grateful. Alas, it didn't help. The room was plunged in darkness and silence; to Thor it still felt like a furnace.

"Thor?"

A sudden jolt of sensation – a hand, settling on his shoulder. Thor suppressed a full-body shudder. 

"Are you sure…"

And Thor was.

What tore out of his throat was an animal growl, feral and dangerous. It was the only warning Loki got before Thor had him pressed against the wall, his body easily dwarfing Loki's own.

"What are you doing?"

"Shut up," Thor snarled. Oh, it was good to say that. But it was infinitely better to _feel_ , Loki's solid warmth like a balm to Thor's feverish skin. He pressed himself closer, mindless of Loki's muffled protests, desperate for more contact.

"Thor, what in the Nine Realms… what possessed you…"

"Shut. Up."

"I'm not going to let you…"

Thor laughed. Loki couldn't move, could barely breathe. With each rise, his chest pressed against Thor's; with each fall, Thor pushed closer. 

" _Let_ me? How are you going to stop me, brother?"

He bared his teeth and sucked a kiss to Loki's long, tantalizing neck. Its taste and texture were enough to make Thor's head swim. Loki's answering shudder almost made him lose himself completely.

"Thor…"

"Shut up," Thor said again, and kissed him upon the mouth.

Oh. This surely must be Vallhalla. How could it be anything else?

Loki went soft and unresponsive, and Thor felt a pang of disappointment at that – but then again, his brother never made anything easy.

"I would have you," he murmured into Loki's ear, soft black hair tickling his face, pale skin shivering under his touch. "Brother."

"Thor." 

Loki's sigh, soft and quiet and pleading. Thor felt it all the way in his groin, his already rock-hard cock shivering in anticipation.

"Loki," he said. " _Loki._ "

If stopping had ever been an option, it wasn't now – his fingers moved of their own volition, stripping Loki of unnecessary layers of cloth. Each movement was a new discovery, a new area of perfect skin to kiss and bruise and explore. Loki struggled and fought but Loki had _always_ fought him about everything, and Thor had had enough.

The mattress squeaked beneath them when Thor pushed his brother down, his hips grinding in mindless need. Loki managed to push the palms of his hands on Thor's shoulders and hold him upright, and Thor could finally take a good look at his face.

He was flushed – with fury or arousal, it hardly mattered.

"Thor," Loki said, teeth clenched. " _Stop_. Now."

With his brother spread before him like that—how could he?

Thor smiled, predatory and dangerous. He grabbed a hold of Loki's wrists and wrestled him down, easily, and kissed him again, with little success. 

No matter—he had him now. With one hand he held Loki's wrists and with the other, he reached between his legs, squeezing his cock. Not quite as hard as Thor's own, but that was easily remedied.

He slid down, until he was close enough to lick a stripe over Loki's cock, and take it into his mouth. He sucked and licked and kissed, Loki hissing insults and abuses at him, every word an extra jolt of pleasure down Thor's spine.

Soon enough Loki's voice dropped into breathless little moans, and Thor smirked in triumph. He felt dirty, servicing his brother like that, but it was the best kind of dirty. For the sensation alone, he would gladly see himself damned.

When he came, Loki spilled a line of profanities that would make Thor blush if he wasn't too busy swallowing his brother's seed. Almost—almost enough to quench his thirst. Instead his need burned greater than ever, and he wasted no more time, pressing into Loki's body while he was pliant and relaxed, barely remembering to smear his fingers in ointment they had brought.

They sank in, but it wasn't enough. Nothing was enough – Thor bit Loki's hip and fucked him with two fingers, relishing his moans. He let go of Loki's hands, and they dropped powerless to the mattress.

Oh, he was ready. So ready he was about to burst.

He pulled himself up, and knelt above Loki, forcing him to look at Thor's face while Thor's cock inched its way into Loki's body. Every half-broken gasp was Thor's to cherish; every tiny movement almost sent him over the edge.

It was almost shameful, how little self-control he had, pushing his hips back and forth. Loki stared up at him, wide-eyed, mouth working; Thor kissed him, and pressed in deeper, almost crying out in pleasure.

The heat built up and crested like a wave. Thor rode it, vision whitening, and came inside Loki.

He was barely aware of falling, falling down, the unbearable pressure finally subsiding. Something settled deep within. The buzzing in his head went gradually quiet until it died.

Thor was spent. Thor was floating, happy, more content than he had ever been. And Loki—

Loki was sobbing.

Thor startled. He was lying, half-draped over Loki, his soft cock smeared with come next to Loki's own. Faint tremors shook Loki's chest, and tears were spilling noiselessly down his cheeks.

"Loki?" Thor asked, uncertainly.

He tried to make sense of what happened. Surely—

"Loki? What happened?" 

Loki pressed his mouth into a thin line, and shook his head, violently, looking anywhere but at Thor. He shoved, hard, and Thor was so shocked the movement pushed him away, off the bed. He hit the floor in an undignified heap.

He didn't understand. He didn't—

Loki was sitting up, curling up on himself. Shivering.

"Loki," Thor said, through a throat that was parched-dry and painful. "What happened? What—what have I done?"

He got no answer from his brother, but the answer was right there.

"Oh Norns," Thor whispered, the truth dawning on him. "What have I done?"

He could only stare ahead, in silent horror.

***

The journey back was one of the single worst experiences of Thor's life. Loki spoke not a word to him; Thor could hardly blame him for it.

He tried to make sense of the—the madness that must have overtaken him. It was the only explanation. Whatever had passed through his head wasn't a conscious thought. But every time he opened his mouth to offer something – an apology, an explanation – he found himself shying away. 

No words – no words could take any of it back.

As soon as their feet touched the ground of the Bifrost Observatory, Loki bid a hasty farewell to Heimdall and disappeared down the length of the Bridge. He didn't look back. For that, Thor was almost grateful.

***

"You have been avoiding me."

Thor could scarcely suppress the shudder that ran the length of his body. Dawn was barely cresting over Asgard, and the training grounds were deserted, save for Thor himself.

And Loki, who now emerged from the shadows.

"I felt you might not welcome my company," Thor said through clenched throat.

It had been three days since their return, and truthfully, Thor did everything in his power to steer clear of his—of Loki. Others have noticed the oddity of their behaviour, but he couldn't bring himself to tell anyone about what happened. Loki most likely hadn't, either.

His cowardice shamed him almost as much as his actions. He didn't even know if Loki needed any kind of support – but the only person Loki would accept help from was their mother, and the very thought of confessing this crime to her made Thor's heart break.

The only comfort he found was in pushing himself physically, until his abused body ached almost as much as his soul. After working his way through heavier weaponry, he was trying to reacquaint himself with the feel of a sword. Not his favourite weapon, by far – Thor had always felt like his strength was wasted on it.

Off to the side, Mjolnir lay abandoned.

For a while Loki watched him spar with empty air. Then he sighed deeply.

"Come now, brother," he said. From the weapon rack he retrieved two staffs, and handed one over to Thor. "I'm getting bored even looking at you."

"This is not the best idea—" Thor said, accepting it nonetheless.

"Good," Loki flashed him a smile, and attacked.

Loki began with a furious onslaught of blows, abandoning his usual tactic of waiting for an advantage. He was fast and light on his feet – enough so to chase away all thoughts from Thor's mind. The staff was a formidable weapon in his hands.

Well, it was even more so in Thor's.

He blocked Loki, easily, and promptly got his feet swept from underneath him while Loki spun around on the floor and landed with one knee on Thor's chest, the tip of his weapon pressed against Thor's throat.

"I win," he said smugly.

Thor pushed him off and jumped to his feet. Loki followed suit, rolling backwards to put more distance between them, before launching himself for an attack that was so poorly thought out it had no chance of succeeding.

Thor locked himself in position to block it; he could easily topple Loki over, and the victory would be his—

Instead of a heavy blow, his staff met empty air; Loki's smile floated before him and faded into bright green light—

Loki wasn't there, and Thor was frozen.

That was until a powerful kick knocked him over, again, and he found himself pinned beneath Loki's weight, with the length of the staff pressed against his throat.

"Thor," Loki said. "Concentrate."

Thor swallowed.

A part of him rejoiced at seeing Loki, alive and real; a different part was thoroughly dissatisfied with his poor performance.

Yet another part, the one which existence he hadn't suspected, noted the awkwardness of their position – Loki kneeling with both legs framing Thor's naked chest – and purred in approval.

"I yield," he said, before his body could betray him—again. 

"You are no fun," Loki said, leaning back. The pressure on Thor's throat lessened when Loki removed his staff – except it didn't, not at all.

Loki put his head on the side and watched him, curiously.

"Are you alright?"

No, he was far from it – Loki was practically sitting on top of him, breathing heavy from exertion, his face flushed. So close and open and _trusting_ – and Thor didn't deserve that trust, after what he had done. 

What he still wanted to do.

"Get up," he said, his insides churning in shame. When Loki smiled, mockingly, Thor hit him sharply in the ribcage.

Anger made it easier to concentrate, and Thor would remain angry, because the other emotion was unthinkable. Loki was scrambling up, wincing, and Thor attacked him with little grace or finesse but plenty efficiency. 

Their staffs clashed again, and Loki must have realized he had lost whatever advantage he previously had. He was more careful, now, and they fell into a familiar pattern – Thor trying to break through Loki's defence, Loki trying to wait out Thor's attacks.

Their fight was attracting spectators. For that, Thor was grateful.

He won – backing Loki against the wall, the point of the staff at his throat. Not how Thor would choose to solve a real fight but he felt better with the distance between them.

"Yield?"

"Yes, yes, yield," Loki sneered. "But that's still two against one."

Fandral laughed from the sides.

"Not likely," he said, saluting Thor with his sword. Thor acknowledged him with a smile, but managed not to miss the dark, hateful look on Loki's face.

"I'll see you around," Loki said, putting back the weapon and straightening his clothes. And then he walked right into Thor's space, and flashed him a grin. " _Brother_."

Thor swallowed.

***

Later that day, after Thor had thoroughly beaten all who would oppose him, he cleaned himself up and rushed for the council meeting. The room was brightly lit and packed tightly with various councillors and court officials. At its centre stood the Allfather, surveying a desk overflowing with scrolls, maps and charts; Loki occupied his favourite place in the shadows.

"Ah, the Crown Prince," Odin said, barely acknowledging Thor when he bowed before him. His voice was calm and polite. "Perhaps you can solve our little conundrum: tell me, what of the impending civil war in Nastrond?"

Thor blinked.

"What of it?"

There was a susurrus in the room. Loki smirked.

"And the demands of the Vanir king?"

"What demands?" Thor asked, bewildered. "My King, we barely got back from Nidavellir—"

"Ah. Truly, this is the wisdom that will lead Asgard into a golden age," Odin said, nodding. "Perhaps, my son, you could fit some time for court matters somewhere amidst your busy schedule?"

Thor shut up, because truly, that seemed wiser.

***

There were times when Thor hated having a brother. Finding Loki in his chamber, with copious amount of mead and food in tow, was not one of them.

Loki was smirking at him from behind a book, sprawled on Thor's sofa and plucking grapes from a golden plate.

"Help yourself," he said, when Thor sat down without a word and started working his way through a roast boar.

"Father was cranky today," Loki observed serenely. Thor contemplated kicking him in the shin, but he did not want to disrupt the fragile peace between them.

"What have you done?" he couldn't help asking, though.

"Why do you always assume it's my fault?"

"Because," Thor took a long gulp of mead and felt it warm his throat. "It always is."

Loki scoffed, and threw a grape at his head. 

They fell into silence while Thor finished eating.

"Perhaps we could go to the dining hall?" Thor said. "Sif and the Warriors Three ought to be there."

It hadn't been just his imagination, then – Loki tensed. His face wasn't visible from behind the book but Thor was familiar enough with his brother's moods, even if they still bewildered him.

"I would rather not," Loki said stiffly. He carefully laid the volume aside and clasped his hands. "But I will understand if you want to. You have been _very_ thorough in avoiding me of late."

Thor flinched. All the warmth of food and drink bled out of him – and he could see it again, Loki lying beneath him, his body on display. His mouth went dry, the taste of Loki still lingering somewhere—

He fought those thoughts, but they were flooding him now. He hadn't—

"Thor."

He couldn't bring himself to look at Loki. He still couldn't stop _seeing Loki_.

"It wasn't your fault," Loki said.

Thor laughed bitterly.

"How can you say that?" he asked. "Loki, I appreciate it, but I was there. I know what happened."

"As do I," Loki reminded him gently. 

Thor shuddered.

"You weren't yourself," Loki kept on talking. "You were _drugged_ , Thor. Surely you realize."

It had to be true. Thor had felt strange after the mead. The details were hazy but it was, indubitably, more than mere drink coursing through his veins that night. This vile, twisted desire—

Desire that still haunted him.

"This is no excuse," he said through parched throat.

"I daresay it's a very good excuse," Loki said. 

"I hurt you."

The words didn't want to leave his throat. He forced himself to look at Loki, prepared to see the hatred and disgust.

The only thing he could see was Loki's soft expression.

"I don’t ever want to hurt you," Thor said quietly.

"I know," Loki said, after a long pause. 

"And yet—"

"Thor," Loki stood up and approached him in a few easy steps. He hesitated before reaching out, but when he did, he put his hand on Thor's neck, mirroring Thor's usual gesture. Thor moved willingly and their foreheads bumped together. "Trust me, I know."

They were so close. It was affectionate – purely that – but Thor could move forward. Close the distance between them. Once again feel Loki's lips against his own, only this time—

Loki was watching him intently, biting his lower lip.

"What bothers you?" he said.

"This is wrong, Loki," Thor said, closing his eyes. "What I did to you—I am so very sorry. You are my _brother_. I can't believe—"

When he opened his eyes, Loki had already stepped away. He looked slightly pale, and his expression was carefully guarded.

"As I said," he spoke sharply. "You were drugged, Thor. You can't be blamed for your actions. Let's leave it at that."

***

Alas, Thor couldn't.

His dark mood had attracted unwanted attention. Whenever they could corner him, Sif and the Warriors Three demanded to know what made Thor act the way he did. Once he grew tired of their questions, Thor busied himself in court matters. Alas, this way laid confrontations with the Allfather, and Thor felt ill-equipped to handle those without Loki's support.

And Loki took to avoiding him, as fervently as Thor had before.

He found solace in his mother's gardens, and in the warmth of her smile. She sat weaving beneath an apple tree. Once Thor arrived, she asked him no questions, and only motioned him to sit down beside her.

Idleness had never been Thor's strength. He sat, fidgeting, his hand clenching and unclenching on Mjolnir's shaft.

"It's beautiful," he said, eventually, indicating the half-done tapestry beneath his mother's clever fingers. It depicted the sea around Asgard, with a pair of ravens circling above the shimmering waves.

"Thank you," Frigga said, pleased.

"Although I suppose Loki might be better suited to appreciate it…"

"The phrasing hardly affects the weight of the compliment, if it is sincere," Frigga said. "But yes, your brother has visited me before. He was—slightly more verbose."

Thor snorted.

"Are you well, the both of you?" Frigga asked.

"Yes, Mother," Thor said dutifully. There was, however, a bitterness to that statement. He knew _he_ wasn't well, and Loki—he didn't know how Loki felt. "Did Loki seem troubled to you? Or hurt?" He forced the question, because as much as he was dreading the answer he also needed it. No-one understood his little brother as well as their mother, and Thor had to know how much damage he had caused.

Frigga put aside her weaving and fixed Thor with a sharp gaze, so unexpected that it made Thor flinch.

"He did," she said slowly. "But he would not tell me why. Thor, has something happened to him?"

Thor could not say anything, not to the Queen. The confession was gnawing at his insides, trying to fight its way up – he owed it to Loki. Mother would know how to help him. Mother would know how to help them both. But—

How _could_ he say anything?

"I—" 

He swallowed, but couldn't form the words. Frigga waited patiently.

Thor leaned backwards against the tree trunk and closed his eyes. Warm sun played on his face, and breeze ruffled the foliage above him. The scent of roses was overwhelming, wrapping around him like a blanket.

"I hurt him, Mother," he said in the end. "And I don't know how to fix it."

"Hurt him how?" she asked quietly.

Thor could only shake his head.

"He says it's alright," he said, before she could insist on asking further questions. "I have been—violent. We were at an inn, and we drank. Afterwards, I didn't feel like myself. Loki claims I have been drugged. It is not—" he breathed out, through clenched teeth. "It does not matter. I did not mean it, but it is done."

In that moment, meeting his mother's eyes required more courage than Thor thought he possessed. But he did so, and felt thoroughly unworthy of the kindness he saw there.

"Thor," she said, taking his hands in hers. "Have you apologized to your brother?"

Thor had tried, but no apology seemed adequate to the gravity of this transgression.

"I have not."

"Than do so," Frigga squeezed his fingers. "But be aware, if you truly were drugged, you cannot be held accountable for your actions. Even by your own conscience. And it seems to me Loki has already forgiven you."

"He should not have," Thor said. "I am sure he hadn't."

Frigga smiled at him. "Believe me, since your return Loki has spoken of you with the same amount of love and affection as ever. Though he seemed slightly exasperated by your apparent absent-mindedness."

"Loki speaks of me?" Thor asked.

"Often, and at great length. Do not let his coldness deceive you – your brother loves you more than anything."

Thor was aware of that but it left him breathless to hear it stated so plainly. He felt at once elated and ashamed, because how could he feel joy at Loki's love, after he had betrayed it so greatly?

"I will apologize, then," Thor said.

"And I will let you know if I think he is unwell," Frigga said.

"Thank you, Mother," Thor could only bring her hand to his lips and place a kiss there, his heart swelling with gratitude. For all his fondness of secrecy and solitude, it gladdened him to know there was someone always watching over Loki.

***

Late in the evening, with his heart in his throat, Thor knocked on the doors to Loki's chambers.

"Come in," Loki said.

He was seated at the desk, poring over one of his dreadfully dull books of seidr. Thor had long since given up on trying to understand his brother's love of it.

"I wish to speak with you," Thor said.

Loki raised his head to fix Thor with a cool gaze.

"Charming," he said. "But if you will excuse me, this is an extremely difficult chapter…"

"Loki, please," Thor said. "I owe you an apology."

"You do not."

"But you—"

Loki slammed his book shut and turned around to glare at Thor.

"It sounds less like you are here to offer an apology," he said coldly, "and more like you were demanding forgiveness."

Thor blanched.

"I would never—this is not my intention, Loki."

"Well? Why won't you stop pestering me, then?"

No, he wasn't here only after Loki's forgiveness – he had no right to _beg for it_ , much less demand it. But he could not live like that, with everything between them twisted and broken.

"I just need to know you are well," he whispered. His strength failed him, and he was sliding down with his back against the door, until he found himself kneeling on the floor. "I need to know you are well."

There was naught but silence. He did not dare look up.

"Does my well-being really bother you so?" Loki said quietly.

"It bothers me greatly," Thor said, momentarily shocked. "How can you even ask that?"

There was an odd mixture of emotions on Loki's face. He was frowning at Thor, his hands gripping the armrests so tightly they had gone bloodless and white. 

When he moved it was in one, fluid motion. He stood over Thor, his lean figure obscuring all light. For a heartbeat, Thor felt trapped in his brother's shadow.

"Look at you," Loki said, very quietly. "The Mighty Thor, so desperate to be heard—"

His expression had gone decidedly strange – hungry and vicious. His eyes were wide-open, seemingly mesmerized by the sight before them. The unease Thor felt was something new entirely – it scarcely looked like Loki at all.

But if this was to be his penance—

"Loki, I am sorry," Thor said softly. "I understand if you do not wish to hear it—"

Loki cut him off with a sharp, unpleasant laugh. "Your apologies bore me, and you understand nothing." Then a cruel smile bloomed on his face, and it was the worst sight of all. "But do tell – what would you do to make it up to me?"

"Anything," Thor said immediately. If Loki set up a task, no matter how impossible, Thor would be eternally grateful.

"Anything," Loki repeated, thoughtfully.

His hand hovered before Thor's face, close enough to touch. Thor gave it a puzzled look. 

"And you probably mean it, too," Loki said, again transfixed. 

More and more, Thor had the feeling the conversation was entirely different in Loki's head than inside his own. He wished he could understand it. Still, there was no way except forwards.

"Of course I do," he said. "I have wronged you greatly, brother. I could not live with myself any longer had I not done everything in my power to fix it."

Loki's outstretched hand trembled slightly.

"Your passion is admirable, but misplaced," he said. "Need I remind you that you have been robbed of your will, and were acting against it?"

Against it—of course. How could it be otherwise? Thor's desires would never take such a vile, twisted turn if it weren't for the drug.

But something else made itself known – a memory of Loki's beauty, still etched in his mind. Thor tried to force it out but it was _there_ , persistently so. And he would rather die that confess that to Loki, lest he lose his trust entirely.

He should – but he couldn't. 

"This may ease my mind," Thor said. "But it does not erase my deeds. You suffered at my hands. This I must set right."

Loki's hand was visibly trembling, and his eyes were pressed shut.

"If I suffered, I have already forgotten it," he said with some difficulty. "Think no more of it, brother. Let us put it behind us—"

Thor could no longer understand anything. It was neither fear nor shame that kept Loki so on edge – these emotions he had learned to recognize. But—what, then? 

He gave in to his instincts and took Loki's hand, startled at how cold it was. Then he scrambled up, everything inside him screaming to embrace his little brother and chase away all that would hurt him. Nonetheless, he forced himself to stop with arms halfway around Loki's shoulders, painfully aware that forcing physical contact on Loki would be inexcusable.

Loki's eyes fluttered open, wide and green and _scared_ \- and then he was burying himself in Thor's embrace, whole body trembling.

"Thor," he was saying, and " _Thor_ " over and over again. 

"I'm here," Thor said, bewildered. 

"Will you promise me to stop blaming yourself for my supposed suffering?" Loki said, head resting on Thor's shoulder.

"I cannot do that," Thor said.

"You said you would do anything."

He had expected an impossible task, but this was too much to ask – especially now, that he had seen Loki so visibly distressed. "Anything except that."

Loki stilled and stepped away, as abruptly as he had fallen apart a moment ago. He raised his eyes to look Thor straight in the eye, composing himself.

"You truly understand nothing," he said, in a flat voice. "And suspect even less."

"What--?"

"I was the one who put the potion in your drink, Thor," Loki said, still flat and emotionless. 

When Thor gaped, lost for words – in the maze of _hows_ and _whys_ \- Loki's smile grew.

"It was a simple little thing, really," he said. "Nevertheless, a small flask is enough to make a man a slave to his desires. I misjudged the dose, of course – honestly, I _had_ expected you to at least try to fight its effects—"

Thor kept staring, staring and seeing nothing at all. That only seemed to strengthen Loki's resolve.

"And you continued to be so delightful in your need for repentance," Loki said, with a mocking, cruel twist to his smile. "Think of it – I had you entirely at my mercy—"

Involuntary, Thor's hands clenched on Loki's collar, cutting off his air supply.

"Why?" he asked hoarsely. Only this one question made it through the mess that became of his thoughts.

"Because I wanted it," Loki said, gasping for breath. When Thor stared at him, uncomprehending, Loki made a face. "You, you dolt. I wanted _you_. Most everyone did. I honestly don't see why you are so surprised."

"You did this to me?"

"Funny how a moment ago it was the other way around," Loki muttered. His eyes widened in pain when Thor lifted him off the ground and slammed him against the wall. "Yes! Yes, I did. And I'm not sorry."

"So I spent all this time in guilt and shame – and you were laughing at me, behind my back?"

"Trust me, brother, I wasn't laughing," Loki said. His brow furrowed, and he looked at Thor with quiet, bitter resentment. "Do you think I had reasons to? I wanted you, and I couldn't have you. I couldn't even say anything lest you turn me away in disgust—"

"And you thought _that_ was an acceptable solution?"

"I only meant to make you feel what I felt," Loki said. Thor still had him lifted above the ground, and Loki kicked him uselessly. "Just for one evening. I hadn't—it spiralled out of my control, Thor. I'm not sorry," he said, again. Just for that, Thor slammed him again, and hit him in the stomach. Loki dropped to the floor, uselessly, coughing and retching.

"I can't believe you," Thor said. "This madness—what is _wrong_ with you?"

"Oh yes, tell me," Loki's head snapped up. His fury was a palpable thing. "Tell me, oh noble Thor, perfect Thor. Tell me how wrong I am, how pathetic. How _unworthy_ of your time and attention. Don't hold back. No-one ever did."

That made Thor pause.

"I never thought you unworthy," he said. "Loki, what are you even talking about?"

"You don't know," Loki started laughing. "You really know nothing."

"No, I admit that," Thor said, angry and bitter. "I admit it freely – I know nothing of what's going on inside your head."

He stalked away, well aware that strength fuelled with fury was a dangerous combination, one that Loki had no way of defending himself against.

"Imagine, then, if you will," Loki called from behind him. "Your dear friends never tire of reminding me how much better you are, at everything—"

"That's not true," Thor said. " Volstagg, Hogun and Fandral are good men – and Sif is your friend also."

"Sif hates me. Thor, are you blind? They all hate me. They think me worthless – a tedious price to pay for the pleasure of your company."

He would have thought Loki lying, twisting words again to rile him up – but Loki's voice was breaking, Loki was choking on them, and sobbing.

"You don't know that. _You_ don't have to worry that you are undeserving of every good thing in your life. You don't have to wait for everyone to realize you don't belong. You don't have to measure yourself against impossible standards, knowing you could never live up to them, not in a thousand lifetimes—"

Thor stared at Loki, who looked back with a frightening mixture of raw emotion – rage and fear and love, all leaving their marks on Loki's face.

"Be thankful for it," Loki said viciously. "Always be thankful you can live without this doubt, brother. You will never know how lucky you are, to know yourself to be worthy."

It took a while for Loki to compose himself again. He was clearly embarrassed by his outburst. All this time, Thor uselessly searched for something to say.

"That said," Loki said, with stiff formality. "What I did to you was unforgivable. I won't pretend to regret the act itself – it was quite enjoyable—"

Thor spluttered at this point. "What are you—I remember you protesting—"

"All in good fun," Loki waved a dismissive hand. "But for the pain I caused you – I am truly sorry. Although I can't pretend I didn't enjoy that, too." He gave Thor a sad little smile. "I am, by nature, a vile and twisted creature. You should never forget that. And now—please get out of my room."

Thor was frozen in place. Loki sighed.

"Did you not hear me? Will beating me up make you feel better?"

In an instant, Thor had him shoved against the wall, and slammed it with both hands. For all that he tried to remain unfazed, Loki was trembling.

"Oh. That's quite all right – you have every right to be angry. Please aim somewhere that isn't my face though, it will be easier to conceal—"

Thor kissed him.

He did not understand why he did that. What he did know was this: the velvety softness of his brother's lips was enough to make him light-headed, even without the drug; and Loki-shocked-into-motionlessness was altogether quite different from Loki-pretending-to-be-unwilling. 

Not a difference Thor had ever expected to ponder, but his brother always delighted in making things difficult.

And after a moment, Loki kissed him back – shy and hesitant, and utterly delightful all the same.

Thor broke the kiss and drew back, to stare into Loki's eyes – for once stripped of the layers of lies.

"You are selfish beyond imagining," Thor told him. "And cruel, too. But you are also clever, charming – and you are my brother, and I love everything about you. Apparently more than is strictly healthy." Thor shook his head. "You are lucky to have me."

Loki opened his mouth, but Thor wasn't interested in further arguments.

"As I am lucky to have you," he said. "Don't ever forget that."

He leaned forward again, to capture Loki's open mouth into another kiss, softer and sweeter than his simmering anger demanded. This time Loki wrapped his arms around Thor's neck and buried his hands in Thor's hair; danger laid that path, and so Thor gently pushed him away, as soon as he could trust himself to do so.

"But I have yet to forgive you, brother," he said, when Loki tried uselessly to keep him close.

" _Thor_."

Damn it – he had never heard his name said like _that_. Like a plea or a curse, so full of conflicting emotions, terrible and wonderful at the same time.

It was almost enough to break his resolve. Almost.

"Don't leave me," Loki asked softly.

"Never," Thor said, holding his brother's gaze. "I will never leave you, or let anyone take you away."

Loki was breathing harshly, still trying to pull Thor back in, draw him back into the kiss. Thor's hands were getting ideas so he stepped away, ignoring Loki's wordless pleading.

"Do you doubt me?"

"No," Loki said, through gritted teeth. "I do not."

"Liar," Thor said, his voice fond. "Lying to me even now, little brother."

He cupped the back of Loki's neck and pressed a kiss to his forehead, chaste and affectionate – although nothing was likely to remain pure between them, not anymore.

"I still don't understand you, but I know a little better about what is troubling you," when Loki tried to twist away, Thor only held him tighter, intent on getting his point across. "And what I said earlier – I meant it. I will set everything right. I will help you."

Loki persisted in trying to get away, but he was wearing down, clearly tired of fighting a battle he didn't want to win.

"You will be well," Thor told him, with unshakeable conviction. "All will be well."

He had no way of knowing if Loki finally believed him – his brother was a puzzling creature, after all – but the way he trembled in Thor's arms, clinging to him like he was the only solid thing in the world, gave hope to them both.

Thor would always take care of his brother. Now all he had to do was make sure Loki remembered that.


End file.
